Through Another's Eyes
by Tinuviel Undomiel
Summary: Pre Curse: Prince James makes a deal to find the imprisoned Rumplestiltskin's most valuable treasure to save his sick mother. He has three chances to find the mysterious treasure, but it may not be what he thinks. Hint of Rumbelle.


Disclaimer: I am a broke college student, I only wish I could own Once Upon A Time.

Author's Note: So this is my first foray into Once Upon A Time fanfiction. This came to me while I was rewatching Skin Deep for like the fiftieth time. I just really liked the scene at the pharmacy with Mr. Gold and David. Then while rewatching Heart of Darkness, I liked the scene between Rumplestiltskin and James so I came up with this idea. Now I know that we don't really know what happened to James's mother after he ran away from King George, but since we haven't seen her die I'm going to say she's still alive. I hope you like this story.

Note: I have studied fairy tales so I am well aware that the show has used the more American version of the name spelled as RumpLEstiltskin when it is actually spelled RumpELstiltskin. I decided to use the show's version of the spelling so please don't tell me that I spelled his name wrong. I'm just following the show.

* * *

Through Another's Eyes

The day was bright and beautiful outside the lake castle. The sun made the blue water sparkle while the people fished from it's plentiful bounty. The men and women of the kingdom came and went to the castle from the single bridge that connected it to the land. Soldiers glittered in their armor as they stood guard over the castle. Outside of it's white stone walls, the day was cheerful and promised to be good.

Inside the air was much different. It was tense and fret with worry. The servants bustled about, trying to be helpful but knowing full well that there was precious little they could do but their jobs. Words were said only in whispers while every ear was trained to listen. They waited for the next bit of news.

Prince James hardly noticed the looks given to him as he walked down the corridors of his castle. His mind was preoccupied with much more serious matters than the apologetic gazes of his people. He let out a sigh and put on a bright smile as he opened a simple wooden door.

His darling wife, Snow White, was standing off to the side. She gave him a cheerful smile but her hazel eyes were glassy with some unshed tears. James reached out and took one of her hands, gently squeezing it between his two. Her other hand rested on her belly, softly curving with her condition.

He stepped away from her to stand beside the great, wooden bed. It wasn't a lavish piece of furniture, simple and hand-carved by a hardworking man. His late father. The bedcovers were thick and made of the finest silk and velvet in the land. His mother, Ruth, looked small piled underneath so many blankets. When she heard his footsteps, she opened her weak eyes and smiled. "My dear boy," she said softly and held out her hand.

James took it and pressed it to his lips. Her skin was hot, far too warm for her body to take for much longer. Doc was his usual helpful self as he held out a goblet of cool water for Ruth to sip. James met the dwarf's eyes ringed by his spectacles. "What can be done?"

"Little, your highness," he said sadly, "It is a fever that cannot be purged or cured. We can only make her comfortable."

Ruth gave her son's hand a weak squeeze. "Don't be sad, my son, I've lived a good life."

"But mother—."

She shook her head. "It is my time. I've accepted that, you should too."

"But you're about to be a grandmother," he reminded her gently, "Please, mother, I can't lose you now."

"Sweetheart," she said, "Neither of us has any choice in the matter."

He stayed with her until she fell back to sleep. Doc remained by her side with his medicines even though the most he could do was help her sleep. Snow looped her arm through his and threaded their fingers together as she led him out of the room. Their private chambers were just down the hall. The baby's crib had finally been finished, but Snow had other plans for decoration as well.

Once they were alone, she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest. "I'm so sorry," she said, "I wish there was more we could do."

James combed his fingers through her ebony hair. "I can't give up, Snow. There has to be a way to save her."

Snow pulled away enough so she could look into his face. "I know you won't, my love. You never give up."

"That is how I won you," he reminded her. She smiled at him and he knew better than to resist the urge to bend down and claim her lips.

The knock on the door forced their tender moment to a premature end. "Come in," James said.

The door swung open to reveal the jailer, the special guard of on particular dungeon. "Your highness," he said with a bow, "I came to tell you that the prisoner has asked for something."

Snow eyed the jailer with curiosity but James tensed at the words. "What does he want?"

"To speak with you."

"I have nothing I want from him."

"He said you do, you just don't know it yet," the jailer said, "Shall I tell him you said no?"

James considered that option, but then his eyes met his young wife's. He had told her before that he would never give up and with this offer now…it could be the only way.

* * *

The tunnel was dark even with the torches guiding the way along the stone walls. James tugged his cloak tighter around him against the cool air. He had instructed that this cavern be built just to hold this monster. He had thought he would never see him again, but he should have known better. This creature could never be ignored for too long.

The jailer stopped and nodded James forward. "Be careful, your highness," he said, "He's not to be trusted."

"You don't have to tell me that," James said. That lesson had been learned a long time ago.

At the end of the long tunnel there was a high-pitched snicker. "What's the trouble, Charming? I would have thought a dragon slayer wouldn't be so fearful of the dark."

The taunt had the desired effect. James strode forward towards the iron bars that protruded from the floors and the ceiling like fangs from a great monster. The chamber behind them looked empty until James saw movement from above.

The creature uncurled himself from the ceiling and dropped down with an odd litheness James would not have expected from one so old. Age seems not to have affected him though no one knew just how old he really was. He pulled himself up to his full height which wasn't terribly tall at all, just average. He stepped forward to frame his face between two of the bars.

Rumplestiltskin was undoubtedly the most dangerous creature in the lands. He even looked the part. His skin was grayish with a dusting of gold that gave him an unholy glimmer. His large eyes were red with yellow tints to them. They sparkled with a mad kind of mirth through strands of his messy hair. Black nails grew into near claws on the fingers that wrapped around the bars. When he smiled, his teeth were brown and did nothing to make him look cheerful.

"Well, well, well, you're looking very much the prince nowadays," Rumplestiltskin said in his odd little voice, "Enjoying wedded bliss?"

"What do you want?" James demanded. He refused to play his little games.

"Can't we have a little chat first? It's rather dull here with only the rats to talk to."

James shook his head. "I'm leaving."

He only got two steps away when Rumplestiltskin called out. "How long do you think your poor mother will last?" James turned back to that hideous grin. "A week? Less? Oh dear, that must be driving you mad."

James raced forward and clutched one hand around his throat. Rumplestiltskin let out another laugh, but one squeeze turned into a choke. "Did you do this to her?" James hissed.

Rumplestiltskin wrapped one cold hand around James's wrist and yanked himself free. "Now how would I do that? If you'll recall, you brought me to this dreary little hole which keeps me from doing my magic."

"Then how did you know she was sick?"

"Ah, well I can still see," he said and pointed to his head, "My magic is gone but my gift of the future remains. And your mother's is looking very grim."

James relaxed his rigid stance just a bit by taking a step away. "They say that there is nothing that can cure her."

"Nothing _they_ know," Rumplestiltskin said, pushing himself up on the bars so he towered over him, "I know something that will most certainly save her life." A wicked grin stretched his face. "But it's going to cost you."

Rumplestiltskin always had a price, no matter how small the favor one asked of him, and this one wasn't small in the least. James had an excellent idea what price this fiend would ask of him. "No," he said, "Nothing would compel me to release you."

Rumplestiltskin clucked his tongue and shook his head at him. "Your mother's life isn't worth my freedom? And I thought you the portrait of the perfect son."

He let out another odd chortle and bounded forward again to gape at James through the bars. "I'm not a fool, dearie. I know you'll never let me go, not for any price."

"So what do you want?" James asked. He did want something or else he wouldn't have called for him.

Rumpletstiltskin beamed at him. "You go to my castle and bring to me my most valuable treasure and then I'll tell you how to save your poor mama."

James could tell by the gleam in his wicked eyes and the open mouthed grin that curled his lips that there was some catch he had yet to see. He narrowed his blue eyes at him. "What is this treasure you want?"

"Ah, ah, ah." Rumpletstiltskin wagged one finger in time to his negative sounds. "You have to figure that out for yourself."

James's jaw tightened and he stepped closer to the monster. "In a castle filled with thousands of trinkets?"

"Tell you what, Charming," Rumplestiltskin said in a cajoling way, "I'll give you three chances. If you bring me what I want then I will tell you the cure, if not…well I'm sure it will be a lovely funeral."

James was filled with a fury he could never remember feeling before. He removed his jewel hilted dagger from it's scabbard and tucked it beneath Rumplestiltskin's chin. The imp let out an amused sound and gave him a mock shudder. "I could kill you for this," James warned him.

"And what good would that do you? Your mother would still be dead. I'm offering you a chance to change that." Rumplestiltskin batted the dagger away like it was harmless stick and not a deadly weapon. "Do we have a deal?"

James kept the knife pointed at his throat, but made no move to bring it closer to his skin. "Three chances?"

"I'm a man of my word."

"I wouldn't call you a man," James said and sheathed the dagger. Rumplestiltskin made a mocking show of being wounded by dropping open his jaw and putting one hand to his heart. "I'll be back with your treasure," James promised him and turned on his heal.

"Best of luck to you, dearie!" Rumplestiltskin called after him. His wicked laughter rang against the walls and throbbed in James's skull even after he'd left that cursed dungeon.

* * *

The Dark Castle wasn't a place anyone cared to visit even after it's dark lord had already been locked away. It's walls were a soft dove grey with black topped towers. The walls were tall and foreboding. Even worse, the trek up the mountain pass was long and dangerous even in the summer months. James had to tie his horse a mile away from the castle, the animal refusing to take one more step towards the evil that still lingered there.

His one and only visit to the castle had been brief and only to the entryway just inside the door. That had been more than enough. Despite the riches that it held, no one had dared to come and loot the place of it's wealth. Who knew how many curses Rumplestiltskin had placed on his bounty? The first room he came across served as what seemed to be a trophy room. There was a cabinet at the far end and long wooden table at it's center with only one chair. A suit of armor stood in the corner, two grotesque puppets hung on display on a pedestal and an ancient sword was laid out near them. James's eyes immediately lighted upon a branch that serviced a swath of Golden Fleece, the same mysterious treasure he had heard as a child while sitting on his father's knee. By the gods, how priceless was such a mythical thing?

James searched a few more rooms and saw other unique and valuable items, but they all paled in comparison to the Fleece. He quickly pulled it free from it's stand and stuffed it into a saddlebag.

He rode the long distance home with rejuvenated spirits. Did Rumplestiltskin think him a fool to not recognize such an irreplaceable prize? However had he come by it? Likely in one of his many deals during his ageless lifetime.

The torches continued to lead the way towards the Dark One's special prison. Rumplestiltskin wasn't curled up in the ceiling this time, but casually feeding scraps of bred to his fellow varmints. "Oh, you're back already," he said when he heard James's footsteps, "What have you brought for me?"

James set the sack down and rustled inside. "I believe this is more than worth the price of a cure for my mother." He pulled the Golden Fleece free where it sparkled like a garnet in the flickering flames.

"Ah," Rumplestlitskin said softly, twiddling his fingers together in that queer little gesture he was so fond of doing. "You chose very well, Charming. Many a prince would hunger for such a pretty thing."

James held out the Fleece for Rumplestiltskin to take. He held it aloft, shaking it out so it let out a lovely melodic ring of gold that no flute or lyre could ever recreate. Rumplestiltskin shook it again and then smiled widely at James. "But not me."

He hurled the fabled item from an ancient time back at James. It smacked into his chest where James caught it in his hand. Rumplestiltskin cackled with delight, his entire frame shaking with his wild mirth. "Try again, Charming. That bit of wool has no value to me."

* * *

Ruth was still fading, but James refused to give up. He cursed his own foolishness during his journey back to the Dark Castle. Of course Rumplestiltskin would have no desire for the Golden Fleece, the man could spin his own gold from straw. Money had long ago lost it's shine to him when he had acquired everything a man could possible want.

James put the Fleece back where it belong and abandoned the trophy room all together. Nothing in there was of any importance to him so it seemed unlikely that what Rumplestiltskin craved for would be there.

Snow had ventured further into the castle upon a visit she'd paid the imp while under the effects of his potion. She had recalled a tower room where she and Grumpy had spoken with him before he gave her the means to carry out his own wicked scheme in a plot to kill the Evil Queen. It was her suggestion that perhaps the object in question was there.

The room was in the tallest tower the castle provided. The door that guarded it was heavy, made of thick solid oak. It took a great deal of strength for James to even nudge it open just enough to slip through. Undoubtedly, Rumplestiltskin had designed it so only magic could open the door with ease.

Magic.

Of course, what else would such an odd creature desire? He used magic with such skill and in nearly every small task. James remembered how he would pop out of thin air or flourish some object into existence with just a puff of smoke. Magic was something he had craved, it must be what he wanted now.

The chamber was round and surprisingly large. Rows and rows of books were stacked up against the walls, so many that James half believed he had found a library. The infamous wooden spinning wheel was set in the center of the room. A spool of thread still sat in the spindle, waiting to be transformed into gold in a way only the master of this castle knew how.

James couldn't help but turn the wheel. How many times had Rumplestiltskin sat here for hours on end? He would spin and spin, changing such a common thing into an unimaginable pile of wealth. One would think greed had compelled him on, but James knew better. The array of items he had collected had nothing to do with showing off his fortune to others. Indeed, hardly anyone ever came to this place. No, his assortment of valuables weren't there to show his guests his powers, but served as reminders of his triumphs. So why spin so much if the gold didn't matter?

Maybe he did it just because he could.

James left the wheel where it stood in order to study the rest of the room. Aside from books, the chamber housed a great deal of potions and bottles. This was Rumplestiltskin's laboratory, where he harnessed his magic. How many cures had he made here and kept for himself? How many poisons had he made and then slipped them into the hands of the wicked? This was undoubtedly the darkest room in the castle even though sunlight was streaming through it.

A desk was set not far from the wheel and littered with papers. Spells were scratched out onto the pages in a strange, spidery crawl of ink and words. James couldn't make much sense of the madness, nor did he want to. There was no telling what sorts of wicked crafts those words led to. A magnifying glass was resting over an open book beneath the wealth of paper.

James put the glass aside and lifted the book to his gaze. It was an ancient tome made of thick, heavy leather. The paper was yellowed and the ink fading on the pages. It looked like it had been rifled through again and again. Certain parts were marked for further examination later, others had lines scratched out by a pen and corrections written off in the margins. This was a great book of spells, rare and no doubt infinitely valuable to a sorcerer like Rumplestiltskin.

James shut the book and tucked it under his arm. Rumplestiltskin had always been a creature of magic. It had been the key to imprisoning him, it had to be the key to gaining his mother's cure.

* * *

Obviously, the great Dark One was truly bored because he was throwing a rock up against the iron bars and catching it when it bounced back towards him. The ringing sound it made was very irritating, but Rumplestiltskin showed no indication that it grated him. James cared not for how the imp passed his time, only if he was true to his word.

"I've brought something else," James said, "Something I'm sure you'll want."

"Ah, so confident in yourself." He stood up from the stone slab that served as his bed and crept to the bars. "Well bring it out, let me have a look at it."

James held up the ancient book and Rumplestiltskin let out a hum of interest. "You've always cared a great deal about magic," James said.

"Right you are, dearie. Very clever of you." He wrapped his long fingers around the bars and beamed at him. "You trapped me once with magic, so naturally that would be my greatest weakness."

"Take it then," James said, holding out the book.

Rumplestiltskin let out a shrill giggle as he batted the book away. It fell into the dirt, undesired by both of them. "Did you really think I would want to read that book for the rest of my life, knowing I can't work a single spell from it?" His words made him laugh harder.

While he hooted, James felt his fury fill his blood, pumping his heart into an insane rhythm. He stepped up to the bars so he was only a mere inches away from Rumplestiltskin. It was far closer than he had ever cared to be before, but now he was furious. "You never intended to give me the cure, did you? This is all just a game to you."

"Ah," Rumplestiltskin said, "You insult me, Charming. I gave you my word that I would tell you the cure if you brought me what I want. It isn't _my_ fault that _you_ can't figure it out for yourself."

"You're enjoying this," James hissed.

Rumplestiltskin smiled his row of brown teeth. "Well I had to find some way to amuse myself."

James lashed out his arm to grab the beast's throat, but Rumplestiltskin darted backwards with a giggle. His eyes glittered through the darkness at him. "Now, it makes no difference to me if you waste your time down here, but your poor mama is wasting away. You only have one more guess left."

The smile he flashed James was the most devious of all grins. "Better hurry, dearie. Tick tock, tick tock."

James spun around to leave this cursed cell. Rumplestiltskin laughed again. "Tick tock," he said over and over as he walked away, "Tick tock."

* * *

Ruth was still asleep and looking paler than ever. James had dismissed Doc so he could have a few private moments alone with his mother, it may be the last ones he would share with her.

She never opened her eyes, not even as he dragged the cool cloth up and down her limbs. The fever continued to rage within her. He could feel it's eat even through the dampness of the cloth. He wetted a fresh one and carefully placed it on her brow. She stirred just a little, but her eyes stayed closed.

James felt tears coming and he tried to blink them away. One escaped, falling from his eye and rolling down the slope of his cheek. He brushed it away before it could splash down onto her face. He couldn't let her see him cry. He'd only shed his tears in private when his father had died because he had to be strong for her. He would do that now.

When Doc returned, James left her with a kiss on her hot cheek. Snow was arranging the bedding in the new crib when he returned to their quarters. The tears he'd tried to hold back came in earnest. His knowing wife wrapped her arms around him, letting him sob into her neck. She whispered words of love and comfort in his ear, promising better days ahead of them.

"I don't want to give up," he said once the tears stopped flowing, "but I don't know what else to do."

"Don't you have one more try with Rumplestiltskin?"

"If he's telling the truth," James said. He toyed with the glass eye of one of the bears Snow had got for the baby. "I don't think he even intended to give me the cure. I doubt he wants anything from that castle. This is just his petty way of getting revenge."

Snow shook her head, her black tresses waving gently against her shoulders. "Perhaps know one can truly know such a creature, but Rumplestiltskin has never struck me as a liar."

"You know his deals, Snow, maybe more than anyone."

"Yes, but he never lied. He would spin the truth, tell only part of the story, but he never gave out anything false. He twists the truth around, but he doesn't lie."

James frowned at her with curiosity. "What are you saying?"

She took both of his hands and squeezed them gently. "There is something in that castle he wants, something he values above anything else. He just doesn't expect you to find it."

"That part is very clear," James said.  
"Charming," she chided out her nickname for him with a smile, "You have to see it through his eyes."

"Snow, he is creature like nothing this world has ever seen. How am I supposed to understand how he thinks?"

"I didn't say it would be easy," she said, "You have to look at everything as a whole. He expects you to choose things _you_ would find valuable. This isn't you, this is him. He has thousands of priceless items that he clearly has no interest in. He adores magic, but it won't do him any good where he is. You need to find something that is neither of those things."

"That's all he has at that castle, I've looked."

"Look again," Snow said, "Search it from top to bottom, leave nothing uncovered. It's there, I know it is. Look at that castle as he would have. Try to imagine why he has everything the way it is." She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I'm sure you'll find it. You always find the things you desire."

James smiled and pulled her into his arms. "True, my love, I do find what I desire. Lucky for me that was always you."

* * *

This was the fourth trip James had made to the Dark Castle and he hoped it would be the last. He was getting all too used to the evil feel to the place.

James opened the front doors and stared at the foyer. The giant stuffed bear was still there as well as other trinkets, but he knew instinctively that what Rumplestiltskin wanted wouldn't be here. Nothing in this room would be important enough to him.

He looked around the trophy room again but Snow had said that he wouldn't want anything that was monetarily valuable and from the reaction with the Golden Fleece, James had to agree. He returned to the tower where Rumplestiltskin kept his magic potions. Everything in there had something to do with magic and while he could tell the imp had spent an innumerable amount of time here, James couldn't imagine him wanting anything from this room.

James scoured every room on the top floor. There was a surprising amount of items of various worth. Some things were cheap enough to where a peasant could afford them and still others seemed designed by the gods. Nothing was put in any real order. Expensive items lay around with little glory given to them. Did Rumplestiltskin never discard of anything?

Each room held costly jewels, rich silk, odd treasures from distant lands, but none of it stuck out to James as something an imprisoned sorcerer would crave. The farther he went, the darker and colder the air became. Finally he found himself in the lowest part of the castle: the dungeons.

There were eight different cells with heavy, wooden doors and working locks. James opened and every door and found them hollow with cold stones and not even rats for occupants. All of the cells were completely empty…except one.

This one was set at the farthest end of the corridor. It's door was wide open, ready for someone to enter. A straw pallet was set off against the back wall with an inexpensive, but warm blanket folded neatly at it's foot. A silver tray with a lonely white teapot with a blue, hand-painted design sat next to the mat. James stared at the odd display and then noticed something else. There was a rose on the pallet.

James bent down and picked it up, twirling it around on it's brittle stem to get a careful look at it. It had long ago passed it's beauty, now it's petals were a dry brownish-red. It's leaves were curled up and the stem had turned as brown as dirt. He held onto the rose as he turned around to take in the cell again.

There was something different here. Every other room in this castle had that taint of darkness to it. Rumplestiltskin's evil had poisoned the air, infusing the atmosphere with the feel of black magic and deviousness. Not this room. The air was still sweet, fresh and vibrant with the power of goodness. Someone else had occupied this space.

James set the rose down on the pallet. The motion reminded him of when he'd seen his mother place flowers on his father's grave. Rumplestiltskin must have put this rose here to memorialize someone. He'd left this place exactly as they had left it, refusing to taint the room with his presence. This place was preserved to keep whatever remained of that person, whoever they were.

James stared at the rose, wishing it would tell him who it was for. This cell had belonged to someone who had a pure soul, someone who Rumplestiltskin hadn't wanted to banish every trace of their presence from the castle.

It was strange. Very strange, but only conjecture. It hardly mattered since everything in this place had been left untouched, James had a feeling Rumplestiltskin wanted to keep it that way.

He left the dungeon the way he had found it and made his way back up to the main floor. James looked through some rooms again, but he couldn't find anything. It looked like Snow was wrong. Rumplestiltskin had sent him here just to torture him.

James lashed out against a bowl filled with pure silver balls standing on a pedestal in the corridor. The bowl tipped over and it's bounty spilled forth, bouncing against the walls and rolling down the hallway. He thought about leaving the mess, but ultimately knew it would be childish to do that.

One had rolled down the hall and into the trophy room. James followed it's path and saw that it had stopped next to another pedestal. He picked it up and locked eyes on the most peculiar thing he had ever seen.

A teacup stood at the center of the pedestal. Alone.

James dropped the silver ball, uncaring of where it went. He picked up the cup by it's little handle to get a better look at it. It was a simple teacup made of white porcelain. It had a gold painted lip and handle. The foot was painted blue and matched the blue branch that decorated it's face. It would have been quite lovely except a noticeable chip marred it.

Peculiar, but worthless. It wouldn't have been much money to begin with, even without the chip. James set it back down and took a few steps away, prepared to go. Then Snow's words returned to him.

_"You have to look at everything as a whole. He expects you to choose things _you_ would find valuable. This isn't you, this is him."_

Why had Rumplestiltskin honored a worthless chipped cup?

James returned to the pedestal and lifted the cup up to his eyelevel. The blue paint matched the design on the teapot in the dungeon. Why was this cup alone up here when the pot was in that cell? Where was the rest of the set?

There were no answers to those questions, at least none that the cup could offer. But this did suggest that this cup and the that cell were linked, probably by whoever had stayed in that room.

James traced the edges of the chipped portion with his fingertip. He had walked through this room three times and never noticed this teacup. It was easy to overlook it because of the wealth that surrounded it. The room was filled with dozens of valuable artifacts and treasures, but the highest place of honor was given to this chipped cup.

Maybe, just maybe, this was the thing Rumplestiltskin wanted.

* * *

James fingered the chipped cup tucked into the pocket of his cloak. The other times he'd gone down here he'd been so sure that he'd had it now…this was his last chance. If he was wrong then his mother was going to die.

Rumplestiltskin was sitting on the stone slab finishing his dinner for the night. "Ah, you're back," he said when he saw James coming. He set down his meal and stood up, but didn't go to the bars. "I was beginning to believe that you had given up. Now which of my pretty trinkets caught your eye this time."

James stopped just in front of the cell. "I confess, what I brought has no value to me. But maybe it will mean something to you."

He pulled the cup out from his cloak and let it shine in the torch light.

Rumplestiltskin's smile vanished like a drop of water in the desert. His eyes widened, the pinpricks of pupils dilating out to eclipse the odd color until they were completely black. James realized then that he had chosen wisely.

Rumplestiltskin leapt to the bars in a flash and thrust out his arm. "Give it here," he hissed out.

James stepped out of his reach. "First you tell me the cure."

"Give it to me!"

"The cure," James said calmly but his voice had a hard edge.

"Give it to me _now!_" Rumplestiltskin shouted.

"Tell me the cure or I swear on my father's soul I will smash this in front of you," James said. Rumplestiltskin snarled at him and strained further, flailing his arm about in a desperate attempt to retrieve his cup. James raised it up over his head, prepared to hurl it down against the stone floor.

Rumplestiltskin let out one more snap and pulled his arm back in. His fists quivered as they clutched the bars as if he wanted to rip them free. No doubt, he did. James lowered his arm but kept the cup at Rumplestiltskin's eye level. He never once looked away from it.

"There is a flower," he said, "It has sprung from the side of the White Cliffs in the Northern Lands. It was created when a piece of the sun fell from the sky and slipped into the earth. Dissolve the flower into some water and it's power will be able to cure any disease."

He stuck out his arm again, the palm outstretched. "Now give me what I want."

James nodded. "I will," he said, "After my mother is cured." He pocketed the cup again, free from the imp's sight.

Rumplestiltskin let out a howl that didn't resemble any animal that had ever lived in their world. He turned into a wild blur of motion, screaming out unintelligible garble as he leapt from wall to wall. He pounded on the stone, shaking loose gravel and dust. He took what remained of his meal and hurled it at the bars. The pewter bowl clanged against the iron, spilling gruel everywhere. He then picked up his matching cup and flung it at him. It slipped through the bars but missed, sailing over James's shoulder.

"You loathsome toad!" he shouted at James and shook the bars so hard they groaned with their efforts to remain in place. "You despicable, lying son of a whore!"

James flew at Rumplestiltskin, grabbing him by his throat in one hand while he slipped out his knife and thrust it under his chin. "You insult my mother again and I will cut out your distasteful tongue," he vowed.

Rumplestiltskin didn't reply, but James felt the growl beneath his fingers. His eyes bore into him, filled with a rage James had never seen before. He released Rumplestiltskin and stepped away from the bars. "I will return the cup once my mother is well again, you have my word."

He turned away before the beast could fly into a rage again. He could hear the bars shaking as he walked towards the end of the tunnel. "The moment she is well, I expect you to come back!" Rumplestiltskin railed at him, "Not one second late! Not one second, you thieving bastard!"

James didn't look back.

* * *

The flower was exactly where Rumplestiltskin promised it would be. The cure came just in time too since Ruth's fever was burning hotter than ever and her breaths were hardly present at all. James had to prop her up with his arm while he spooned the now glowing water into her mouth. He didn't finish until the bowl was completely drained.

The flower truly was a miracle plant. Within a quarter of an hour, Ruth's fever had cooled completely. She opened her eyes and smiled at her son. "My dear boy," she said again and he pulled her up into his arms for a warm embrace. Death wasn't going to win today.

Ruth gained strength by the hour, but James and Doc were adamant that she rest for at least a full day. The danger had passed though and that filled the castle with renewed cheer.

It was later in the evening and James sat in a comfortable chair in the rooms he shared with Snow White. The fire was crackling merrily, but he hardly noticed it. He was focused on Rumplestiltskin's greatest treasure which sat in the palm of his hand.

James heard the door open and he smiled at his wife. He set the teacup down on a table and rose to kiss her brow. He framed her beautiful face with his hands, frowning at the dark circles that surrounded her green eyes. "Are you still not sleeping well, my love?"

Snow gave him a weak smile. "I'm sure it will pass soon."

She has said this before, over and over in fact. He knew she worried about the Queen's threat. He wished she would relax and see that those were the bold words of an unhappy woman, anxious to squeeze one last ounce of revenge. What more could she possibly do to them?

James kissed her lips lightly. "Mother is doing much better."

"Yes," Snow said, "She may be healthier than ever now." Her eyes fell away from her husband and came to rest on the chipped teacup. "Will you return that to him?"

James sighed and nodded. He picked it back up, holding the cup between them. "I will keep my word."

"I think he would have kept his too," Snow said gently, "You could have given him the cup and he still would have told you about the cure."

He brushed his thumb over the painted blue branch. "The truth is, I knew that. I knew he would have given it to me."

"So why did you wait?"

"Because I wanted to take a closer look at his most prized possession," James explained, "His reaction…I've never seen anyone look so enraged before. It's just a cup."

Snow reached for the teacup and rolled it around in her hands, exploring it just like he had done. "You know, the night before my mother died she had taken down her hair and left one of her hairpins on her dressing table," she said to the cup, "My father found that pin and carried it with him everywhere. When I was eight years old, he lost it. He went into a panic and had all of the servants search for it. He was melancholy and sour for four days until it was finally found."

"What are you saying, Snow?"

"To everyone else, that was just a hairpin but to my father…" She stopped and raised the teacup up to her eyelevel, "It was all he had left of the woman he had loved."

James let out a bark of laughter. "Snow, you can't be serious."

"Why not?"

"I doubt Rumplestiltskin is even capable of love."

"Maybe he is," she said, "Maybe he isn't as evil as we think."

"You know the things that he has done."

She nodded down to the cup, tracing the lip with her finger up until the chipped portion and then circling back again. "It's just…I'll never forget what he said to me when I first met him."

"You mean when he gave you that potion that nearly made you evil," James reminded her.

She ignored his subtle jab to the Dark One he'd imprisoned. "He told me, 'Love makes us sick, it haunts our dreams, destroys our days.' Maybe he was trying to sell the point to me, but how he said it…it was so personal."

Snow White met her husband's inquiring blue eyes. "I think he was in love once, but he lost it. This is the only thing he has left to remind him of what he almost had."

She held the cup out to her husband who gently took it from her grasp. He stared at it again. "Who could have warmed the heart of such a beast?"

"I wish I knew," Snow said, "She must have been very special."

James remembered the dungeon, the kind presence that still hung in the air in that little room and the rose that had wilted on the pallet. If Rumplestiltskin had learned to love someone, she must have been a unique person. Clearly, Rumplestiltskin thought the same thing.

* * *

James hoped that this would be the last time he would ever have to visit Rumplestiltskin. The Dark One didn't let out any jibes or jeers when he heard his approach. This time, Rumplestiltskin hadn't found anything to do to bide his time except pacing the length of his cell. When he saw James, he leapt to the bars and glared at the coming prince.

"My mother is well," James said and then reached into his cloak to remove the cup from his pocket, "You may have this back."

Rumplestiltskin reached through the bars and snatched it from him. He drew his arm back in gently so the porcelain wouldn't hit the bars. "How did you find this?"

James crossed his arms as he looked at the cup cradled in those dark hands like a child. "I tried seeing things through your eyes."

Rumplestiltskin let out a giggle at his words then sat down on his stone bed. James watched him turn the cup over and over, his eyes studying every piece of the cup to detect any further harm. His fingers lovingly traced the chip.

"Why do you care so much for that cup?" James asked. Rumplestiltskin didn't even glance over at him, just stared down into the porcelain bowl. James stepped closer to wrap one of his hands around the bars. "Whose memory still lingers with you?"

The imp snapped his head up to glance at him. "Ah, so you want my secrets now, do you?"

He stood up and limbered over to James so they were face to face. "Well that's going to cost you."

There was now doubt that Rumplestiltskin was an enigma. No one was completely certain from whence he came, but there were plenty of stories that were told. James had heard tales that he had no mother, that he'd been spat out from some loathsome pit because his evil was too immoral for even the darkest of arts to ally with him. Others said he come from another world entirely that had banished him because of his wicked sins.

But looking at that cup, James began to wonder if maybe none of these wild tales were true. Maybe he was once a man, an ordinary person with no magic who had somehow lost his way. Perhaps there was even a tiny part of himself that was still that man. Could he even be found again?

It was tempting to learn everything about Rumplestiltskin. James knew he would always wonder over him, always puzzle over the meaning of that chipped cup. But to know the secrets of the Dark One…that price, no matter the cost, was far too steep.

"Keep your secrets," James said, "I have everything I need."

Their business was finally concluded. James walked away, his cloak billowing out behind him in the drafty tunnel. Rumplestiltskin made no attempt to trap him another deal, but he did call out, "Best hold on to that while you can, dearie."

James stopped and glanced back at him over his shoulder. Rumplestiltskin smiled but his eyes were bitterly cold. "You have no idea what's coming," he said, "No idea."

James thought about returning to demand answers, but he didn't want to begin yet another deal just to satisfy Rumplestiltskin's twisted mind. He kept walking, ignoring the laughter that rang against the walls.

Rumplestiltskin watched him walk away until the darkness swallowed him up. He was alone again, unless he counted the rats.

He sat back down on the slab, pressing the cool face of the porcelain cup to his brow. Memories filled his senses, memories more potent than any magic he could conjure. Eyes as blue as an empty, noonday sky. A laugh that hung in the air until it filled the space with it's beauty. A smile that had warmed what remained of his rotten heart.

This cup, those memories, they would sustain him in the coming months. For he _did_ know what was coming. He relished that knowledge.

* * *

A/N: So, what did everyone think? Please review so I can hear your comments.

P.S.: Yes the flower is a shout out to the Disney movie Tangled. It's my sister's favorite so I figured I'd throw her a bone for fun.


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